


Nightly Conversations

by camichats



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Past Relationship(s), Professor Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Perhaps it wasn't one of Renfri'sbestideas to fall for a professor, but at least she did it for one that she knew from a club, not from taking his class. That Geralt was amazing did not help.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Renfri | Shrike
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Nightly Conversations

Renfri couldn't believe her life was such a damn cliche. The stepmother that hated her, the father that was oblivious, some frat boy cunt stalking her during her sophomore year, and the massive crush she had on her professor. Only one of those was a thing she cared to think about, and it wasn't exactly a mystery for which one that was. 

Professor Rivia wasn't  _ her _ professor, but he was definitely a professor at the university and her sword fighting club leader besides. And it wasn't so bad to like him because he was only in his thirties and she was twenty-eight-- car crash, coma, recovery time, it was a real bitch to her college timeline. So it's not like it'd be creepy or unethical if they got together, but uh, the issue was more in the fact that Professor Rivia didn't seem interested. In the slightest. She'd seen him turn down Yennefer, who was widely recognized as the most gorgeous woman on campus. Yennefer was in his class though, and twenty fucking two besides. Maybe the lack of an age gap between Renfir and Professor Rivia mattered to her and not to him. It wasn't  _ really _ the same to compare the two situations when they were so different, but it's all she had to go on. 

Renfri sighed, rubbing her hands over her face in aggravation. Not only was she running in circles, she was doing it over a  _ guy _ . Not that she'd been so different in her relationship with Jules, but at least they'd been dating for a while before she started panicking about getting physical. Of course, that had ended before it became an issue (or even something for them to discuss), what with them heading off to grad school while she finished her bachelor's. But still. Even if Professor Rivia  _ were _ interested, she wasn't very good in relationships and she knew that for a fact. 

That didn't mean she was going to stop talking to him all the time. And no, it wasn't a flirting thing, it was a he's-really-interesting thing. He knew way too much for only being alive thirty-odd years, and he wasn't even showy about it. These tidbits always came up at the strangest of times while he was talking about something completely different. And he always acted like it wasn't completely batshit? Yeah he'd killed a rabid bear once, but the focus of the story was about how hard it could be to find good firewood. 

Anyways, all these things caught up with her as she knocked on his office door. The door was open, but it was a small room and they'd somehow managed to fit four professors in there. With the desks, it was pretty much impossible to move around the perimeter if even one of the chairs was pulled out. So unless she was going to take another professor's chair or fall into his lap, that meant staying in the doorway. 

He looked up, blinked, then closed his laptop. "Renfri." 

Knowing that he wasn't going to add a 'what can I do for you?' or 'what brings you here?' like most professors, she started explaining. "I was wondering if our sword fighting club was going to the Witcher Faire? We talked about it, but never got an answer." 

"I'll ask everyone next meeting," he said, writing a reminder on a sticky note. "Was that all?" 

Now that he mentioned it, it felt silly to have come so far out of the way to ask a question she just as easily could've asked  _ at _ the next club meeting. "Class question next, actually," she found herself saying-- great, now she had to think of a question she could reasonably ask for class. 

"You're not in my class," he pointed out. Was that a hint of amusement she saw? 

Renfri rolled her eyes. "Yeah but my literature teacher is total shit." 

"I teach history, not literature." 

"Yeah, but you said the other day that you've read The House Of Fame." It had been a lie to start, but now that she was talking, she actually did need the help. 

He nodded. 

"Great." Hopefully the professor with six coffee cups on their desk (all of them only mostly empty) wouldn't mind if she sat in their seat. She reached in her bag and pulled it out. She had the page that had been giving her issues bookmarked, so she was able to open up right to it. 

"It's in Middle English," he said, looking it over. 

"Yes." 

"I thought you said it was a literature class." 

"Medieval literature, which means everything is in Middle English, and I don't know what this line is supposed to say." 

"Why didn't you look it up?" 

"We're not allowed. Sabrina says it's cheating." 

"Asking me isn't?" 

"No. Personally, I think she just doesn't want to admit that she doesn't know how to work a computer. Something about 'personal connection' is her excuse for it," Rnefri said, making air quotes with her fingers. 

"For a translation," Geralt said flatly, and Renfri nodded. They shared a commiserating look. "She always has been a pretentious ass." 

"True, but I think you only say that because she keeps shoving her boobs in your face." 

"Well who does that?" Geralt grumbled. 

Renfri laughed, because Sabrina did that to pretty much everyone. It's not like she slept around or anything, she was just really proud of her boobs. 

In a move that was unsurprising but still a little surprising, Geralt knew what it said. They quibbled over one word-- it was basically the same, but semantics meant a lot in this class which was probably the real reason Sabrina was such a bitch about it-- and before they knew it, two hours had passed. Renfri only noticed because she got a text and when she was seeing if it was important, the time showed. "I should get going before Manny decides to start howling." Manny was a gift from her father in one of his moments of clarity, because he'd noticed that she needed some emotional support. She wasn't going to get it from any of the humans in her life, so a dog was the next best thing. 

Geralt checked the time, then grimaced. "Yeah." He got to his feet as well, packing up his bag until it was bursting at the seams. Shit, she hadn't meant to keep him from his work. "Bus may not be running if I take a while." 

"I can give you a ride," she offered immediately. 

He paused for a moment before adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "I'd be out of your way, it's fine." 

"You say that as if I have plans to get to. Manny can hold out another twenty minutes, it'll be fine. Besides, I need a way to thank you for helping me." Normally that thank you would be in the form of food, but A. she didn't know what he liked and B. that might be treading too close to date territory and he'd say no automatically. And if she offered and he said no, then anything after that would seem like she was trying to ask him out. Which  _ might _ be the truth, but mostly it wasn't. She wasn't interested in ruining their friendship no matter her occasional daydream of kissing him. Or fucking him, but that one didn't hold a lot of weight. Most of the time, the daydream was cuddling on a very soft couch with a stupidly fluffy blanket. Seriously, those arms could be used for much softer pursuits than demonstrating sword fighting techniques. 

"You don't need to thank me." 

"Are you always this resilient to people helping you?" 

"Yes." 

Renfri rolled her eyes. "Fine, then do me a favor and walk me to my car." 

He gave her a flat look. He knew what she was doing, and she wasn't even trying to hide it. 

She raised an eyebrow. "It's dark out. I might be tall, but I'm still small. You're a good deterrent to violence." 

Geralt grunted. "Normally I'm the one throwing the first punch." 

"Which means you're good at winning fights. See? This is great, let's go." 

Geralt sighed, but he followed her, turning off the room's light and shutting the door. And she knew it wasn't that he was leaving for the bus stop because that was in the opposite direction of the parking garage, which is where she was headed. 

She might have brought it up to get him to accept the ride home, but it was a valid concern of her's. Statistically, how many assaults happened in parking garages? A lot more than she was comfortable with, that's how many. Normally when she was by herself, she had her spiked knuckles keychain looped around her fingers. She knew how to throw a punch, the trouble was making sure she didn't freeze up before she got the chance to hit-- hence, the keychain. Of course, Geralt was much more reliable than two spikes of hard plastic linked together, and he was good company anyways. 

There weren't any incidents, and the walk was quiet and comfortable. Renfri didn't say anything until they were sitting at the exit. "This is where you tell me which way to turn," she prompted. 

Geralt sighed, like he still couldn't believe he was letting this happen. "Left." 

"Left it is. Do you want music?" 

"Sure." 

She leaned forward and turned it on, but she wasn't going to try and find what kind of music he liked. Right now it was on a classical station, which she mostly listened to and thought 'I can play that violin part'. "You can change it to whatever you want." 

"This is fine." 

Fine didn't mean good, but it was also likely that fine for Geralt meant something different than when someone else said fine. "Okay. Are you going to remember to give me directions or are we going to travel aimlessly around this city for the whole night?" 

"I live down Cherry," he grumbled. 

"Cherry... Cherry... that's by the movie theater right?" 

"Yeah." 

"Cool, I know how to get there." 

* * *

Somehow, it kept happening. She didn't  _ mean _ to keep showing up during his office hours specifically to talk to him the entire time and make him so late that he missed the bus, but that's what ended up happening a couple times a week for the next month. It was on one such drive home that they had something that was maybe a date. 

"Are you hungry?"

"No," Geralt said, but she was pretty sure hers wasn't the only stomach growling. 

"Okay, well I'm starving, would you mind if I dropped by McDonald's?" 

He gave a grunt that sounded like he was fine with it. 

"Thanks." It was only a minute before they were pulling in the drivethru, and she asked again, "Do you want anything?" 

"No." 

She didn't really believe that, so she got him two cheeseburgers. He didn't seem to notice anything was wrong at first, which was pretty weird since she also got two cheeseburgers for herself. It was only when she took two out of the bag and set them in her lap, then passed the rest of the bag over to him and said, "These are yours," that he realized what she'd done and glared at her. She raised an eyebrow and took a pointed bite out of one of hers. "I won't be able to eat all of them, they'd just go to waste." 

Geralt sighed and petulantly unwrapped one of them. "Thanks," he muttered. 

From there, it was an easy descent from mostly professional to apparently-I-have-a-new-best friend. They exchanged not club related texts, got food together more times than she could count, and they'd managed to agree that she'd give him rides every day while he finished his office hours and she worked on homework. 

They were leaving later than one usual night, and she had to jet home to let Manny out before he pissed on the carpet. "Sorry," she said, quickly undoing her seatbelt and turning off the car. "You can come inside if you want, it should only take a minute." 

Geralt followed at a sedated pace, his bag still in the car. 

She had a few moments to be worried about the state of her house, but it's not like it was messy or anything, it just showed that she pretty much had no friends; her place was obviously geared towards a single person dwelling. She opened the back door and Manny ran outside, then refused to go. 

"Come on, seriously?" she asked the dog, who continued to sniff at the edge of the gate as he padded along the perimeter. "I rush all the way here and now you don't even want to go." 

"I thought cats were the more contrary pet," Geralt said, leaning against the back wall next to her. 

"They're supposed to be, but I guess Manny's trying to make my life difficult." 

Geralt snorted. "My dog always scratched at the door then turned around when I opened it." 

"You had a dog?" 

"When I was a kid, yeah." 

"How very cat-like of him," Renfri snickered. "Look, I'm sorry about this, normally he goes then wants to run back inside." 

"It's fine." 

Renfri didn't  _ mean _ to kiss him, but they were standing there in the quiet night air as Manny sniffed around the fence and it was so comfortable that she sort of leaned and he sort of leaned until they met in the middle. Relationships weren't easy, but she could do this part as comfortably as sleeping. She tilted her head one direction and Geralt accommodated, and they moved closer together. 

They didn't separate for a while, not until Manny came right up to her leg and whined loudly. Renfri licked her lips and looked down at him. "You have a terrible sense of timing," she said, then looked back up at Geralt. "Did you need to get back?" 

"Erm, yeah. Probably." 

"Alright, let me find my- well, they're still in my pocket," she said, pulling her keys out. "Right. Ready?" 

He nodded, and they walked through the house to get to the front door again. She locked the door, and they got back in the car. 

* * *

"So uh, not to sound desperate or anything," Renfri said, then wanted to hit her head against the wall because why? Why did she say that? If she'd asked out and out, it would've sounded less pathetic, but she'd already started and there was no taking it back. "But did you want to stay the night at my place tonight? Or- I guess tomorrow if you need time to prepare." She winced again. "I mean, get extra clothes, a toothbrush, that sort of thing." 

He didn't answer for a second, and if it was anyone else, she would be worried that meant no. Geralt always took the time to consider though, and where she just kind of talked and figured things out as she spoke, it felt like his every word was intentional. "If you wanted to swing by my apartment, I could make a bag." 

"Sounds like a plan to me." She was about to leave, but Geralt ducked in and gave her a quick kiss. She knew that she was grinning like a loon, but it was nice to be in a good relationship again. 

* * *

Turns out that Geralt's arms really  _ were _ that big. His button-up shirts hadn't done a damn thing to hide it of course, but feeling it under her hands and all around her body was a completely different experience. One she  _ very much _ appreciated. 

Manny whined plaintively next to the bed, and she made a vague noise, waving a hand at him lazily. He was quiet, and she sighed happily, snuggling against Geralt again. As soon as she got settled, Manny decided to jump on the bed and lick in her in the face. 

"Oh my god, what did I ever do to you," she groaned, shoving a hand in his face and catching his tongue between her palm and his snout before he could get her mouth. 

"You raised him," Geralt muttered. 

"And this is the thanks I get. God." Renfri gave Manny a shove, then rolled over and got out of bed. She threw on some sweats and a shirt, not bothering with underwear since she was still holding onto the hope that she could get back in bed. Maybe Manny just needed food and it would barely take her a minute. Actually, now that she thought about it, that was the most likely. She normally refilled his dish before she went to bed, but obviously she'd had other things on her mind last night. 

Her dreams of hopping back in bed to go to sleep again were dashed when Geralt padded into the kitchen as she was still scooping food into Manny's dish. Like her, he hadn't bothered to get fully dressed. He'd pulled some pajama bottoms on, and it was clear that that was  _ all _ he was wearing. Manny was trailing behind him happily, but when he saw new food in his dish, he dashed forward. She didn't bother to dodge his snout when she put one more scoop in, and he shook it off easily enough. 

"Did you sleep alright?" she asked, looking up at Geralt as she resealed the bag. Sleeping somewhere new was never easy, at least for her, and she assumed it was the same for everyone else. 

"Perfectly." 

"Good," she said, pleased. By the time she straightened, Geralt was beside her-- very light on his feet, that man-- and he pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. She turned her head just so and made it a real kiss, and that's the story of how they ended up fucking on her bed again, this time with the morning sun peeking through the shades. 


End file.
